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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674251">Jersey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoLau/pseuds/JoLau'>JoLau</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Owl House (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Characters, Domestic Fluff, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Not beta-read, i got the lumity brainwormz again, thieving clothes from your gf is NOT a crime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:15:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoLau/pseuds/JoLau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amity needs her jersey for a Banshees reunion, but she can't find it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amity Blight/Luz Noceda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>177</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jersey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With a squeal of hinges, Amity yanks the bedroom closet door open. The hangers clatter on their perches as she rifles through blouses, dress shirts, jackets, and sweaters, auburn eyebrows furrowing progressively deeper the longer she searches. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not here." Amity sighs under her breath, running a hand over the top of her tied tawny locks. She backs out of the closet, closing it and calling out over her shoulder. "Honey, have you seen my school jersey?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The response comes from down the hallway, muffled by a couple of walls. "You mean the one from Hexside?" Amity shouts back an affirmative and considers searching the dresser. "When you played for the Banshees?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Luz, my Banshees jersey! The one from my last year at Hexside!" Sparing the dresser drawers from a haphazard search, Amity leaves the master bedroom with droopy ears, puzzled and disappointed. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was in the closet the last time she saw it! It's only been a day, Titan sake. Between her need for an orderly living space and Luz's organisational habits, there's no way it could've gotten lost in under 24 hours. Where could it be…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amity journeys down the hallway and rounds the corner into the modest living room of their Bonesborough flat. She sits down in the armchair situated across from the L-shaped sectional where Luz is nested, laptop perched atop her crossed legs. The unfolded screen blocks her chest from view, keys clicking as thin, agile fingers type rapidly. She's working on a draft for a new chapter of her book, definitely, Amity thinks. The witch doesn't want to disturb her partner. Slumping back in the chair, Amity grips the armrests and sighs a long, quiet sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When there's a pause in the click-clack of keys, Amity mentions, "it wasn't in the closet." Luz looks at her from over the top of the colourful, custom laptop cover. "I swear I saw it yesterday. Did it grow wings and fly away or something?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luz hums contemplatively. "It would need to grow hands to open the closet in order to escape. Or maybe it would just drag itself out from the gap under the door. But then how would it open a window…?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Honey," Amity snorts, crossing her arms over her chest and grinning, arching a wry brow, "rhetorical question." Luz's eyes sparkle with good humour. "Are you sure it didn't get misplaced? Did you go on a sorting frenzy recently?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not in the bedroom closet," Luz replies with a slight shrug, "you will find, however, that our kitchen's cupboards are more orderly than they were a couple hours ago. We have a lot of dry pasta. Why do we have so much pasta?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lasagna." They both love a good lasagna. Especially when made by the recipe that Willow's dads shared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah sure, but there's lots of spaghetti noodles too. And a bag of shells. And- anyway." Luz cuts herself off just as Amity opens her mouth to interrupt. They share a smile and a small laugh. "Anyway. Why do you need your old jersey? It'll be at least three decades before our graduating class has a reunion. We're all, like, twenty-four." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amity uncrosses her arms. She drums one set of black-painted nails on her leg, just below where her shorts end. "Cat's moving down to the Ankle to be with her long-distance partner. Skara had the idea of getting the team back together for a farewell party, and, well, we all agreed to it last night over an Orb conference. Sorry I forgot to mention it, Luz. I've been sort of single-minded in regards to finding my jersey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luz makes a little noise; a hum of empathy that makes Amity's ears perk. It's a sound that puts her at ease; a sound that signifies Luz understands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's ok. I was pretty busy last night talking to my editor, and again this morning with the kitchen and now work. When's the party happening?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tomorrow evening. Cat's catching a chariot at eight o' clock, so we're meeting up at hers around four or five. That way we can reminisce and party for a couple hours before she has to take off."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luz purses her lips. "Sooo… there's no panic as long as you get it back before then?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I guess not…" Something clicks together in Amity's brain. She narrows her eyes, darting them briefly to where the screen of Luz's computer obscures her chest. "Why, Luz?" Amity hauls herself into upright posture, bracing her knees in preparation to stand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luz grins. It's an easy, unpanicked grin, even as Amity stands to her full, intimidating height (intimidating by human standards, anyway; 6'7" is just a little above average for an adult witch) and crosses the living room with two loping strides. Lowering her laptop cover, the human spreads her arms out to shamelessly display her shirt of choice for the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The combination of dandelion-yellow and dusky blue look great on her, Amity will admit. And it's cute how it's way too big for Luz, the jersey collar favouring one side of her shoulders to the other. "Couldn't help it!" Luz chirps. She hugs herself, puts her chin to her chest, and nuzzles the jersey. "I knew I was gonna have a writing day when I woke up this morning, so I decided to put on something cozy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands propped on her hips, Amity does her best to appear unimpressed, but she knows it's a failed effort with the way Luz is grinning at her. Her face is warm with affection and her ears are quivering happily. It's her greatest weakness! Amity is helpless when it comes to Luz regularly, but when she wears her things? Then there's no hope. None at all. Luz is so adorable when she's drowning in too-big clothes, and it's like there's no shade or colour that </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn</span>
  </em>
  <span>'t compliment her warm brown skin and lively, dark eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amity pins her ears in an attempt to look irritated, but it does nothing to stop their intrigued trembling, and Luz's knowing, smug smile just makes the witch's face even hotter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I promise you'll have it back by tonight." Luz croons, reaching for one of Amity's hands; a hand that Amity relinquishes readily to hold Luz's calloused fingers. "It's been sort of a minor muse for this drafted chapter. Can I pleeease wear it for the rest of today? I'll even wash it in time for your party tomorrow."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine," Amity mumbles, easing onto her knees. Luz puts aside her laptop so Amity can rest her head in its place on her lap instead. Luz's other hand comes up to gently stroke one of Amity's ears, an action that has the witch set to purr. "You don't have to worry about washing it. I'll deal with it, ok? Just write your book, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mi amada</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Amity allows her eyes to close for a blessed moment as Luz thumbs a tender spot behind her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luz makes another little noise. This one's happy. It reverberates from her throat like the buzz of a bumblebee on a sunny day. She leans down and kisses Amity's hair. "Thank you, love." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amity gives a murmur of assent and thinks to herself: it's no one's business but her own if she goes to the party with her jersey smelling of her girlfriend, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So there's a couple headcanons i consciously added: </p>
<p>first one is that when she gets older, Luz becomes an author. Live both your dreams, baby.</p>
<p>second one is that witches are TALL tall. I mean, have y'all seen how tall the adult characters are in the Boiling Isles? Eda is 6'5 and she seems to be average height for an adult, humanoid witch. </p>
<p>Don't try to change my mind because you won't. I will die before I give up Tall Amity and her short (by witch standards) partner Luz.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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